Of Ties and Tangos
by Rinari7
Summary: A collection of drabbles about Kate and Gibbs and formal dances.
1. Chapter 1

_If you really want something from someone, make it impossible for them to say "no" when you ask._ It wasn't one of his rules, more a piece of advice. He didn't even remember where he had heard it, but it had stuck with him. Maybe it was a little manipulative, but then manipulation was one of his well-worn tools of the trade.

Still, he inhaled slowly-through his nose, so it was less noticeable-and straightened to look at the woman tapping her foot in the elevator beside him.

"Kate, do you have any formal dresses? In blue?" All of his ties were blue, most of them lighter shades. Shannon said the color brought out his eyes.

"One, maybe. Why? Do we have a new case?" She straightened, uncrossed her arms, tilted her head slightly. He could see the emotions play across her face: surprise, confusion, a flicker of excitement.

"Light or dark blue?"

"Uhm, it's kind of a royal blue. What's up, Gibbs?" She bit her lower lip in that way that made him swallow and hope she didn't notice.

He nodded. "Be ready at twenty-hundred hours tomorrow. Wear that, dress up a bit."

"Is that-" She had wrinkled her brow, but her voice had gone a little high, a little hesitant with something he dared call hope. "Is that an invitation?"

He hoped the sound of the elevator doors scraping open would cover the hammering of his heart.

"Marine Ball. You wouldn't want to let me go alone, would you, Katie?"

She let out a choked noise of surprise, and he lengthened his strides to be out of hearing distance before she could reply, unable to keep a slight smile off his face.

* * *

 **Author's Note** **:** Inspired by flootzavut and a tumblr post about matching ties to dresses for prom.


	2. Chapter 2

"Gibbs, do we really have to do this?" Kate finished pulling her hair back, glancing around the deserted gym with an exasperated sigh.

"Would you rather have Tony as your dancing partner?" Not that he would have let Tony do it. _Only because the lunk would've stepped all over her feet and immediately blown their cover_ , at least that was what he told himself.

" _God_ , no." She shuddered slightly. "I mean in general. It's _practice_. They don't expect us to already know how to dance."

"It's not a beginners' class. Do you _want_ to stick out like a sore thumb when we're on surveillance?" He rolled his shoulders, stretching his neck from side to side. She copied him.

She sighed, pressing her lips together between her teeth. "No."

He wondered idly if she had been subjected to ballet lessons in kindergarten, or stumbled on the stage during a middle school performance.

"Stand up straight. Put your right hand on my upper arm." He clasped her left hand in his right. "Your arms should form one line with your shoulders."

She stared determinedly at the wall behind him as he corrected her stance, running his hand over her shoulder along her arm.

"Look to the left. Turn your head" He kept his tone soft, unable to keep his fingers from ghosting over her jawline. "It's important for balance."

"Have you done this before?" Her voice wavered almost imperceptibly.

"Yes. You don't face me directly; you should be a little to my right." He moved to demonstrate, and lightly set his hand on her lower back. Her skin was warm through her thin tank top. "The rhythm is slow, slow, quick, quick, slow. Just bend your knees a little bit and walk forward. Ready?"

She nodded.

"One, two, three-and-four." He stepped back as he spoke, watching her. She bit her lip, her slight discomfort obvious to him-the posture always felt unnatural at first-but she was graceful and athletic and he could see her getting the hang of this fairly easily. (Maybe more easily than he would like, but she almost looked made for the dance floor.)

He guided her through some of the basic steps he still remembered: turn, promenade, and then again with music, until moving together wasn't quite so awkward and his arms were starting to feel sore, and then they broke apart to grab their water bottles.

"Where'd you learn how to do that?" The music wasn't so loud that she really had to raise her voice to make herself heard.

He took a moment before replying. "Back when I was in training, I heard ballroom dance was a good way to meet women." He smiled slightly at her scoff. "Figured out I liked it for more than the obvious reasons. Went to classes for a couple of years."

"Why don't you still?" She screwed the cap back on to her water bottle, re-did her pony to tie back the few strands of hair that had escaped.

"You want to try taking a class with our hours?" He arched an eyebrow, taking one last drink before he set his bottle aside as well.

"Fair point."

She waited until he curled a finger at her to approach him again, turning her head as she straightened, set her hand back on his bicep.

"Closer. The tango is a pair dance." His mouth was dry, but he didn't think she could hear it.

"What do you mean, closer? How much closer am I supposed to get?" She took the opportunity to turn her head to the right, arch it, stretch it as she glanced at him out of the corner of her eyes.

"Closer." He slid his hand down to her lower back to press her against him as he gently insinuated his right thigh between hers.

She stiffened, her gaze snapping to his face. "Gibbs, wh…?"

"It's a _pair_ dance. Turn your head to the left, Kate." She obeyed, swallowing. He took a deep breath, focused on the grisly murder scene that was the whole reason they were practicing the standard tango at eleven PM barefoot on the sparring mats.

"Relax a little. Ready? One, two, three-and..."

There was no way in _hell_ he would have let Tony or anyone else do this.


	3. Chapter 3

She had to concentrate to prevent her breath from coming in short, shallow bursts. If Gibbs noticed-and he could hardly help noticing, really, given that his fingers were splayed across the small of her back, holding her close without pressing her up against him-he didn't comment, which she was grateful for.

The soft music worked both for and against them-covering their quiet conversation but making others' harder to hear, too.

If it had been up to her, she would have preferred to watch the room with her back against the wall-at least that was what she always did until she'd had a few drinks-but Gibbs had decided being in the middle of the dance floor would give them an optimal view of the room.

The soft lights didn't make it easy to distinguish people, especially considering at least a fourth of the attendees were naval officers in their dress blues, but she scanned the room, just to keep her mind on the mission and not on how much she had enjoyed her partner spinning her during the last dance, feeling the hem of her dress swish against her knees.

As he leaned a little closer, his breath feathering over her ear-"See him yet?"-she tried to convince herself that the warmth making her shiver was just a muggy summer breeze making its way from window to open window across the dance floor.


	4. Chapter 4

"Hey, Kate. What's up?" Abby practically shouted when she picked up. The heavy beat of the music made her skull vibrate even over the phone.

She waited to speak until the noise subsided, but she still raised her voice. "You have a black dress, don't you? Like, a black formal dress, long gown type thing."

"Oh, yeah, I've got something like that! Why? Do you need it?"

She tapped her fingers on her closet door. "Yeah. Gibbs said I'd need one for next week. I've got black dresses but not long ones. He said you would know what I was talking about."

Abby squealed, so loudly that Kate winced and yanked the phone away from her ear.

" _Ohmigod_! Oh. My. God! You have _got_ to let me come over next week and help you get dressed up!"

The goth's enthusiasm was infectious. "If you really want to, Abs. I mean, it's nothing special, just a work thing."

Her friend was still making little happy noises. "Just trust me. I'll make sure Gibbs can't believe his eyes."

Drawing her lower lip between her teeth, she nibbled. There was no way to turn that offer down, really, not without prompting questions as to exactly _why_ she cared about not looking like she was trying too hard.

"And Kate? I'm just gonna say, Gibbs looks absolutely de _li_ cious with a black tie."

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Headcanon behind this is that Gibbs used to take Abby as a friend, and knows she has a dress that matches his favorite tie Kate could probably fit into.


	5. Chapter 5

Kate had nodded to him on the way to the elevator in the parking garage. If the double-take he did when he saw her dark violet dress in the clear plastic protector confused her, she didn't say anything.

He stared at it in the elevator until she got off at the forensics lab, a look of consternation on his face that unnerved her. He had a cup of coffee in his hand, but she wondered if she should get him another one during her mid-morning break just to be safe.

"Thanks for taking care of this for me until tonight, Abs." She hung it up at the back of the lab, beside two suits and Abby's own dress, and handed her friend a cup of Caf-Pow.

The forensic scientist immediately latched onto it, her eyes twinkling. "It's not a problem, but I'm not going to say no to a reward."

"Enjoy." She laughed, adjusting her bag on her shoulder. "Should I get Gibbs some extra coffee today, too? I'm guessing he's not too excited about the function this evening."

Abby tilted her head, still sipping her own beverage. "It's probably not a bad idea. He's been pretty tame about this one, but he hates this kind of thing as a general rule." She lowered her voice, setting the cup down, her hands telegraphing her excitement. "I think he's actually bringing a date this time. That's about the only thing that could stop him from constantly complaining about it. He won't say who, though."

"Gibbs is going with someone?" She swallowed, feeling like several internal organs had shifted about three inches down. "He hasn't said anything."

"Well, you know how he is." The goth lifted one shoulder.

Kate snorted. "You can say that again-shit! I've got to get going or Gibbs will have my head."

Abby made little shooing motions as Kate almost-ran out of the lab.

When she slid into her desk chair, dropping her bag on the floor, shoulders hunched-"Sorry I'm late, Gibbs. I was dropping my dress off with Abby."-and Gibbs didn't say a thing, even McGee frowned.

"Boss, are you all right?"

"Just peachy. Don't let it happen again, Kate. Get to work, all of you. DiNozzo, that report was due on my desk _yesterday_."

Murmured assent accompanied shuffling as they obeyed. She wasn't sure if not being chewed out was a good thing or a very, _very_ bad one, but both she and the rest of Gibbs' team decided it was a good idea to ply him with coffee whenever they could today.

She was the designated dealer during lunch, but he was nowhere to be found-neither at his desk nor in the cafeteria, and when she checked his car was gone-so she bit her lip and ate at her desk and hoped the coffee wouldn't completely cool before he came back.

McGee was helping Abby with some hard drive decryption and Tony had gone to copy something, but probably got sidetracked chatting up the Director's new secretary, when Gibbs returned, about half an hour after lunch ended, with a small white shopping bag.

She stood to offer him the newer, hot cup, having already poured milk and sugar in and drank half of the previous one. He stopped to take it, switching the bag from his right hand to his left and giving her a glimpse of the purple cloth inside, even if that likely wasn't his intention.

Her boss took a long drink, keeping his gaze on her. "Thanks."

"You're welcome." She shuffled from one foot to the other. "Uhm, is there something…?"

"You going with anyone to this thing tonight, Kate?"

* * *

 **Author's Note:** So this is the piece that's probably closest to the original inspiration for this whole series, and the last one my muse generated. For now.


End file.
